Language: Persian (Farsi)
A month: Sleeping on a second hand couch in the living room. Two months: Attempts to find friends in the hallways of high school. Three months: Arguments with the TDSB to prove my vaccination records. Four months: Confusion over understanding the fashion secrets of Canadian teenagers. Five months: Unprecedented cold in Ontario. Six months: Long distance calls to childhood friends into the darkness of night. Nine months: Fear of return and having to catch up on my “Konkoor” (dreaded university entrance exams in Iran) studies. Eleven months: Suitcases packed, ready for return at any point. Twelve months: Nodding along to the crying grandmother on the phone. Twenty four months: Riding TTC’s bus number 34 to “No Frills”. Thirty six months: Teachers and classmates who only know their own world. A life time: Friendships that will always remain. A life time: A country in which I can be who I want to be without any extra hassles. A life time: Viewing the world from two sides, inside and out. A life time: The chance to live with two cultures. A life time: Learning how to deserve the hyphen in my identity: Iranian – Canadian.
Language: Arabic
The idea of settling down fascinates me. Routine. Stability. It all seems foreign to me. I’ve lived in 10 different cities and attended more schools than I could count on two hands. I was born in Baghdad, but my dad didn’t see a future for us in Iraq so we moved to UAE in 2000, luckily before the war. Life in UAE wasn’t stable. My dad involuntarily moved from one job to another and from one city to another. After 5 years, it was time to move again. To Canada. From humid summers all year round to freezing winters and snow storms. From a desert to a snowy winter wonderland. From east to west. I remember waking up the next day after a long flight and running to the window in excitement. I looked outside and saw a man walking his dog. Students walking to school. White leafless tree branches. Serenity. Peace. My eyes settled on one small snowflake. I carefully observed its journey from the sky to the ground. I wondered to myself, will it maintain its beautiful form once its edges touch the ground, or will it melt and become one with the white land? Who knows? The only thing that occupied my mind at that moment was the way everything looked beautiful covered in white.
Language: Tamil
I used to consider the world my home. My first flight took me from my birthplace, India, to my first home, Zambia, when I was 45 days old. This marked the beginning of a semi-nomadic lifestyle: filled with new people, cultures and adventures. Four countries have been home: from Zambia to India to Oman and finally, Canada. I have lived in eight countries and travelled to more than I can count. There is something about Canada that has persuaded me to stay. Here, my multi-national skin found its perfect coat, a land that wears just as many skins as I do. To me, being Canadian means being myself amongst people that are united by their differences. In Canada, I am most aware not of how I appear, but who I am: what my thoughts and passions are and how my voice joins others’ that can understand me.
Language: Bangla (Bengali)
I really did not want to come to Canada. I was happy in Dhaka, Bangladesh. But my parents insisted. Family friends in Toronto introduced me to their friends. My extended family here tried to accommodate us whenever required. But I knew that my life had changed forever. The Bangladeshi friends, who were like my family, were not as easy to communicate with anymore. The Canadians were very nice and polite, but I could sense a feeling of disaffection – as if I did not belong. Language was not an issue. I was lonely, and I didn’t even know how to cook. I am not saying that I was alienated. I just did not feel as comfortable. I could not treat my peers at school here as I did back home. I understood there was a different culture – the unspoken personal boundary was larger. I think I have become one of them now.
Language: Hindi
There are times when we doubt ourselves because of a few bad past experiences. It is then when God puts you in situations that are even more challenging to make you aware that you can challenge anything and everything that comes your way. My experience, moving from India and living in Canada has been exactly this. It has made me aware about my strengths that I had no idea about. Starting my life in Cambridge in one of the coldest winters, adjusting into a new cultural set up and living alone for the first time all has been way too thrilling. My time here has made me realize that it is only when you are alone, you know who is with you. Canada has given me this precious gift, which I will cherish forever.
Language: Armenian
Twenty years ago I left my homeland, Lebanon, to explore what was to me the unknown. First Dubai, then the United Stated and finally Canada where I decided to settle down. It took me four years to reluctantly apply and receive my citizenship. Becoming an immigrant was not a decision I made lightly. Although I terribly miss Lebanon, the warmth of its people, the chaotic daily life, I know there is no going back. I listen to the news and I recall the reasons why I left.
This October and for the first time, I will be able to vote in the Canadian Federal Election. I have hope that a newly elected government will usher this country back to Democracy. Any other outcome will render it difficult for me to justify why I should stay.
Language: Serbian
We lost everything in the war. We had to start over somewhere new. We moved to Serbia for 2 years, where we filled up our application to become refugees in Canada. With 3 suitcases in hand and 3 sons, we boarded the plane looking for a better, peaceful place for the kids to grow up in. We found ourselves in Lethbridge, Alberta in the dead of winter. We didn’t speak a word of English but people were nice and patient. After 5 months, we came to Kitchener, where we had some friends. Today, I am happy. My kids have finished school. I have a job. I have rights. I do miss home, but I know the place I miss doesn’t exist anymore.
Language: Slovak
I was born in Czechoslovakia during the Cold War, when the world was divided between the free West and “evil” Communism. We lived in the bad part. When I was 6, my mother said, “Pack 1 toy, we’re going to visit grandma.” She lied! We escaped to Austria instead, abandoning everyone we loved. Canada accepted us as political refugees but I remained heartbroken. The first year in Canada was brutal and scarred my family for life.
Language: French
After finishing my studies I was looking for an international experience. I came to Canada by chance and stayed there by choice. The landscape that I saw through the plane window was very different from the idea I had of Canada. I had imagined a country completely white from snow, with charming little houses made of logs.
Once here, things like people eating pancakes with bacon drizzled with maple syrup for breakfast seemed weird to me. But soon, my impression changed. … Life was definitely pleasantly different from the one I had in Paris.
Language: Hausa
I left my home country of Niger to come to the USA for studies. Upon graduation I moved with my family to Canada in 2004. Our two-day trip took us from Arkansas, to Chicago and then to Guelph via Sarnia, where we did the immigration formalities. My first impression of Canada was friendliness. When we completed the paperwork while we were pulling away, we saw in the rear mirror the young immigration officer running after us. We stopped and waited. When she came she said “Sorry, I forgot to tell you ‘welcome to Canada’. So welcome to Canada.”
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